Boba Fett vs Predator: Natural Selection
by TG23007
Summary: Can the most infamous bounty hunter find the trail of a predator?
1. Chapter 1

_Boba Fett vs. Predator: Natural Selection_

It was hot. Not that it wasn't near-sweltering virtually every double sun drenched day on the desolate desert of a planet named Tatooine. This particular Outer Rim world usually had ultra-warm weather, but today seemed extra muggy, especially for this time of year. As the gray haired man who called himself Jaster Mereel stepped outside his well furnished yet isolated home, he wiped the damp sweat from his brow while he estimated that the thick dark clouds forming could be the reason for this peculiar humidity.

Not the almost routine occurrence of sandstorms, but an anomaly of Tatooine days….rain. "Well, we better cover up the moisture farm _Slave I_," Mereel said to his modified protocol assassin droid that was once upon a time a dark forest green. These days, he could barely tell the original color with how much dust, dirt and grim had accumulated all over the droid's blaster-proof durasteel frame. "As you wish sir", the droid replied as it scurried off to prepare for the inevitable rain. _Slave I_ was actually only a small CPU disk unit that could be inserted into the robot's head. Its real computing power was invested in co-piloting the starship _Slave IV_ with its owner to help navigate through the universe. But, come to think about it, _they hadn't been outside this dust bowl of a planet in what seemed like years….or wait… maybe it really had been years._

Mereel leisurely strolled back towards his house. He walked with a small limp, barely noticeable to any common being, but he felt a slight pain in his hip with almost every aching step because of many previous reconstructive surgeries. Just as the man was about to cross the threshold of his home, a loud swoosh caught his attention back from the front yard area. Mereel glanced up and even through the overcast sky he caught a view of the downward spiral of what looked like a missile and it was coming straight his way! "Fire in the hole!" the older man blurted out, realizing there was nobody around but himself and his dirty protocol droid, but, none the less, that was really his only friend, if you could call it that. With surprising agility Mareel sprinted toward the droid and leapt at it right as the descending projectile hit the ground. A loud thud came and then a splash of sand covered the motley pair as they lay face first on the dry land. "Thanks for the concern sir, but it's only a message carrier." The now even dirtier droid stated. "I knew that" Mereel sneered. "I was just seeing if I could still run." He lied, but thinking about it, he had surprised himself with how quickly he jumped to shield his favorite assassin droid. "Who knows I'm here anyways?" Dusting himself off, Mereel made his way to the device now sticking up out of the hot sand.

TO: Jaster Mereel a.k.a. B.F.

FROM: Alastair Covington (Chief Security Officer)

The inset screen flickered to the blue and gold Weyland/ Yutani Industries logo and then changed to a small box with a thin red line in it that methodically moved up and down. "Fingerprint verification please." A feminine robotic voice said coming from the rocket looking object protruding from the ground. Mereel ducked down immediately and scanned the entire vicinity from side to side like a cornered animal. He knew what B.F. meant, but, nobody was else was suppose to know where _he_ was. Mereel thought to himself……_Boba Fett_.

The name Fett represented a faceless enforcer, with his distinctive Mandalorian battle armor that struck fear in the hearts of fugitives and free-men alike. The invincible Boba Fett was known as a legendary bounty hunter, accepting warrants from the former Empire's Darth Vader as well as the iniquitous Huttese gangster, Jabba the Hutt. Many other villainous underworld kingpins as well as legitimate businesses around the recognized universe used Fett's services, despite his sometimes outrageous job-fees. Even the devious Falleen Prince of the Black Sun criminal organization, Xizor, was known to employ the poisonous Fett from time to time. The mighty Boba Fett was all business, and as long as they had the credits, the bounty hunter was deadly efficient too. Mereel knew this because most of this civilized galaxy did as well.

Satisfied he was still alone and not being watched; the graying man pressed his thumb against the white box on the screen and waited a brief second. "Thank you" the voice said and with a chirp of approval the device ejected a small shoebox size cube to the ground. The missile then efficiently imploded into a dust that blew away in the light breeze. Mereel collected the remaining box just as the rain started to fall. He and the droid quickly finished covering the moisture farm equipment and then hustled back to his extravagant villa. By the time they got inside the precipitation had started coming down pretty hard and the _Slave I_ droid almost looked halfway clean after its brief rain shower.

Mereel took off his wet Mandalorian camouflaged duster jacket and tossed it over the back of one of his two vintage Ylesia Forest wood bar stools and set the unique box down on the coffee table. "Who's it from sir?" Questioned the droid. "Someone in the Weyland/Yutani Corporation identified as….Alastair Covington" sounding the name out as if trying to make it spark something in his razor-sharp mind. "The name's not familiar, even though I have done a few jobs for the company in the past, but…, that's been over ten years now and I haven't the slightest clue how they could have found me now." Old man Mereel realized that he hadn't been called Boba Fett in almost four years. That was last time the bounty hunter had been out on the prowl. It was a personal vendetta with the now famous General, Han Solo, who had eluded Fett's grasp for too many years. It all ended in good old Corellian stand-off on the planet Jubilar with the two aging icons holding fully charged blasters pointed right at each other's gut. Neither of them desired to pull the trigger that day and they decided together, the universe was a better place with both of them in it, alive.

That was basically the last time Mereel had worn the famous Mandalorian battle helmet and armor to been known as the notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett. After that fateful encounter with his arch-nemesis, Fett made the logical decision to return to the planet Tatooine where he had almost died once and actually live life for once, under a different name of course. Nearly four years after looking down that barrel of Han Solo's blaster, _his peaceful life may now be in jeopardy_, Fett thought as he examined the cube shaped thing sitting on his traditional glass coffee table. With no obvious way to open it or any visible buttons, he placed it back down on the table.

Exhaling, Fett leaned back on his sofa and just his back hit the soft cushion of the couch behind him, a small hologram shimmered to life as it was projected from the cube. Even with the blue tint of the projection, Fett made out the figure of a young man dressed in a well-tailored business suit standing confidently. "Hello Mr. Mereel……or should I say……. Mr. Fett." The image of the young man said slyly. "My name is Alastair Covington, Chief Security Officer of the Weyland/Yutani Deep Exploration Division." "I know you have been lying low for quite some time now….and… with your very impressive past, well…, let's just say…, nobody else in the entire universe should deserve a vacation more than yourself." Saying it with the suave of a life an insurance salesmen, he continued. "But are you still the best?" "Maybe for the right price we could entice you to one last job, a grand finale of greatness if you will?" Fett was less than flattered, but continued to listen. "Truth is Fett," the young mans voice suddenly getting very sincere, "we really need your expertise on this mission and the company's willing to pay more than you could have ever made on any single bounty in your whole illustrious career, …they promise." "We'll be sending a representative to meet you soon, thank you for your assistance Mr. Mereel."

With that the projection faded and Fett closed his eyes to think about what had just happened. "Will we be going on a new mission sir?" Slave I said, breaking the silence after a few moments. "I'm not sure yet, we'll have to see what this representative has to say." Standing up and walking to the window to look out at the pounding storm, Fett reflected about his recent time on Tatooine. Yes, he had enjoyed relaxing on this backwater planet for these past few years but, on the same token, he still yearned for the thrill of the hunt.

Stalking your prey and utilizing fear to intimidate your adversary into submission, Fett was the best and he missed that unmatchable feeling of the _catch_. Thinking about all this brought a crooked smirk to his wrinkled face. Looking out into the torrential downpour, Fett noticed a sleek silver limo-speeder coming down the curvy road way to his home. "That was quick" he said out loud. Even through the heavy rain the luxurious vehicle moved towards the front yard as if it had a purpose, gliding rather swiftly. Slowing to a stop, the craft came to rest directly in line with the front door. As the thick droplets of rain continued to fall, Fett watched intently as the back door slowly opened and a set of combat boots hit the wet sand.

Surprised, Fett could see the figure emerging from the car was a human female. She was about the same age as Fett, but this was obviously no ordinary woman. Even through the combat fatigues she wore, he could see that even for her age, this was a beautiful lady and lean yet muscular as well. Fett opened the door for the woman right away and immediately noticed what looked like a lighting bolt marked on her forehead. Fett tried not to make it seem like he was staring right at it but it wasn't that easy. "Must be important for you to come all this way in a mess like this" Fett said while gesturing outside. "Very important, that's why we need you." "My name is Naguchi, Machiko Naguchi."

"Nice to meet you" said Fett as they pleasantly shook hands. "My name is Jaster Mereel, what brings you here on such a glorious afternoon?" saying it as he tried to look out the window. Naguchi caught the sarcasm and gave him a look as if she was insulted. "Look _Fett_, I know who you are" "Why do you even bother trying to sell me that bantha fodder?" "It seems with such a famous history, you would want embrace your name….not hide from it" Naguchi blurted out. "Well, you know what they say…_mo credits mo problems_… truth is, I just like to keep things quiet these days" Fett said dryly. "Who says that anymore and since when has a serious bounty hunter….like yourself…. wanted things quiet?" Naguchi retorted. Fett sat down on his expensive couch and asked Naguchi to join him in his lavish living room. "_Slave I_, bring us some sim-herbal tea." "Ice?" The droid replied. "Yea sure" yelled Fett. "I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot, so……_noticing she wasn't wearing a wedding ring_…Ms. Naguchi, why have you ventured to this beautiful planet and decided to talk to me?" Naguchi contemplated for a moment "Well…we couldn't use the regular avenues of the Bounty Hunters Guild resources for this off the record mission…and……it's a very long story but, the point is….you're the best hunter of all time…….right? And if you think you're the best…well….this is your opportunity to prove it." After a slight hesitation Naguchi finished with "Plus Weyland/Yutani has offered fifty million credits for total completion of this mission." Fett's eyes widened.

"Now, we would be splitting that four ways." Naguchi remarked as if she was asking a question. After a short time Fett coolly supposed "If your company knows so much about me then you should know I only work alone." The _Slave I_ droid maneuvered to set the drinks down on the coffee table. "We figured you'd say that, so my team and I already agreed that you get a twenty mill cut and we'll split the rest" Naguchi remarked. "Ever worked alone for that much dough?" she added. Fett then elegantly expressed his concern about working for the company at all in the first place. Sure, it was a sizeable amount of money, but would it be worth the risk? Especially considering all the vacation time that had added up here on Tatooine? After another short pause Fett continued "all this talk about money and how to split it up with no hint as to what this mission is all about." "This may sound weird so I'm just gonna come out and say it" Naguchi said as she leaned up in her comfortable seat. "There's an alien race of predators that have lived off the interstellar map for centuries, traveling to different worlds and galaxies to slaughter worthy opponents for the sheer pleasure of the hunt and most importantly, trophies for their personal collections." "What type of trophies?" Fett asked. "I have personally seen vast displays of hundreds of skulls and vertebrates from many different alien species from the whole universe, many I couldn't even recognize" Naguchi responded. "The most recognizable ones were that of humans" she added. "These predators' whole society and lifestyle is centered on the honor and glory of the hunt." "Sounds like a great time but, where do I come in" Fett said as he got up and walked back towards the window. He looked out at the ongoing rain and then looked back as Naguchi answered.

"The predators all live by a strict code of rules and they won't kill an unarmed or unworthy opponent." "At least that's what I thought until a saw them specifically hunt human beings on the swamp planet of Bunda a decade back" Naguchi said looking away. "Now I've learned that it's only a rouge pack of these creatures that continuously pursue humans." Fett was somewhat interested as Naguchi kept talking. "We've been tracking these guys for years and our information shows that what we think is the last group of them heading for the human planet of Concord Dawn "I have history there" Fett said breaking the silence after another long moment.

The once great bounty hunter Boba Fett pressed a hidden button in his kitchen facility that opened up a secret elevator down to his extensive subterranean garage. It was well furnished with a vast arsenal of different firearms and military-grade weaponry that could supply a small army if needed. Each scatter pistol, laser scoped sniper rifle, and what looked like every killing utensil imaginable was perfectly displayed on solid reinforced permacrete walls. Even his father's famous Westar-34 side-arm blasters were prominently showcased amongst the other guns and combat items surrounding a sunken-in landing grid sector where his starship _Slave IV_ and some other attractive looking vehicles sat at rest. He looked longingly at his heavily modified firespray-class gunship and again thought about his violent history to this point.

When Boba was a child, Fett's father, the universe's first great bounty hunter, Jango Fett, was usually away on prolonged business ventures, but had taught his only son well in the ways of the professional bounty hunting trade. The name Fett, to this day, carries with it a cold air of dread and fear, thanks to his dad. To those with enough credits to hire him, the Fett title is synonymous with success. To those with a reason to fear him, Fett means capture or death. The name and reputation are just two of the many things Boba inherited from his father, Jango, but the respect part was most important to him. In the final years of the Republic, Jango Fett was regarded as the ultimate hunter available.

That was until poppa Jango's untimely death at the murderous hands of the once fierce Jedi Master, Mace Windu. After Jango's death, Boba picked up the pieces of his shattered life with the help of his little black book. It was an encoded message unit written by Jango himself with detailed instructions for survival should Boba ever end up alone. B. Fett didn't think of his father as much as he used to, but he still held on to the small black book his dad had given to young Boba shortly before he was beheaded right in front of his traumatized son's youthful eyes on the planet Geonosis. Jango's battle-dented helmet bounced along the dusty ground of the Geonosian Arena, to be picked up by a stunned and newly orphaned Boba Fett.

That unfortunate incident occurred in one of the first full-blown battles of the Clone Wars, _which seemed like a million light-years ago now_. After the Battle of Geonosis, young Boba quietly buried his father's body and marked the grave with a simple J.F. Fett already knew every wisdom-filled phrase in the book by heart, but he still looked at the family air loom from time to time for a little inspiration.

The electronic book was well hidden under a selection of thermal concussion grenades and Mandalorian flash bangs. After retrieving and powering it up, the first phrase that popped up was "You can't accomplish anything if you don't try." "Being dead for such a long time still won't stop dad from knowing just what to say at the perfect time "Fett said out loud to nobody.

Earlier, he had told the pretty Asian lady that he was too old and out of shape to go on some wild-wookie chase after a random bunch of human killers. She quickly pointed out that she was just as old as him and she was doing just fine. Even though he declined, she still gave him the coordinates to where her and the team where staying in the nearby spaceport town of Mos Eisley. She also said they were departing in two days to their destination on Concord Dawn, with or without him. Truth was, he didn't care about the money and deep down inside, the old bounty hunter still had the desire to hunt again. He was the unsurpassed king of his trade and the Fett bloodline was ingrained with an uncanny ability and will to survive no matter the circumstance. A trait often overlooked in his line of work where superior firepower was the predictable choice. This really _was_ a rare opportunity, maybe even the chance of a lifetime to prove himself once and for all. He tried not to think about how he was on the latter part of that lifetime, but he still couldn't deny that he had a yearning to hunt. Fett also neglected to mention to the Naguchi women that he really _had_ heard of these predator hunters in the past. Long ago he had even read some classified Imperial information about how some unknown creatures had seeded selected planets with even another deadly species of alien life forms. _Those aliens played the role as the predator's_ big game he guessed. Yea, Fett had heard about these predators and aliens before, but he never wanted to encounter one…….._until now_ he decided.

Despite the ongoing rainfall, the next morning Fett told his protocol droid to start preparing the ship for take off and he decided to take quick joy-ride in one of his new land vehicles so he could get outside for some _fresh_ air. He'd grown up on planet where it rained ever hour of the day, so he truthfully still liked a nice downpour as opposed to the standard heat of Tatooine. Fett was now donning his infamous Mandalorian helmet which was impressive in itself. The T-shaped visor set in the helmet incorporated a micro binocular view-plate. The rest of the helmet featured a temple-mounted broadband antenna, motion and sound sensors, an infrared scanner device, plus an internal com-link connected to _Slave IV's_ CPU unit at all times. Proudly, he pulled out of the well concealed garage zone and immediately slammed the accelerator to near full power with the heel of his boot.

His water resistant raincoat flapped in the wind behind him as he made an extreme banking turn to avoid a rather large natural outcropping of boulders and small rocks. Then he gave the machine some extra juice as he scorched through the wet desert disappearing towards the Dune Sea while leaving a trail of mist-vapor behind him. He wasn't wearing the full Mandalorian battle armor, but the dark narrow T-shaped visor in his helmet greatly enhanced his peripheral vision to three hundred and sixty degrees. _Especially good in this weather_ he thought to himself as he scanned the endless wet landscape zipping by him.

Gliding at phenomenal pace, Fett was still lost in a world of his own thoughts; he sensed a strong connection to this backwater planet located in the outermost part of the Outer Rim Territories. Composed of the _Smuggler's Moon_ of Nar Shaddaa as well as the central planet, Nal Hutta, which was the home-world that spawned every single wicked Huttese syndicate clan member. This far-off, boondocks part of the universe was a long way from any other inhabited systems like Naboo or Coruscant. The other dot on the Outer Rim space-map, Tatooine, had almost cost Fett his life once before because of that damn smuggler and scoundrel, Han Solo of course.

Fett remembered……shortly after the famed Battle of Hoth, the empire's ruthless enforcer and second in command to the Emperor, Darth Vader, desperately wanted to capture the Imperial fugitive Han Solo and his Rebel craft, the _Millennium Falcon_. For that reason, Vader hired a miscellaneous assortment of skilled bounty hunters to find Solo and his crew. The six man group of bounty hunting _scum_ consisted of a viciously ruthless cold-blooded Trandoshan killer named Bossk, who craved clamping his reptilian fangs around Fett's neck any chance he got. The assembly also included a hired gun who called himself Dengar, _this guy turned out to be an important asset_ to Fett later on down the road of his life. The well-known Boba Fett was obviously present with the other unruly mercenaries. Vader specifically pointed out to Fett that the _Falcon_'s valuable passengers were to be taken alive. "No disintegrations," rumbled the Dark Sith Lord, obviously familiar with B. Fett's deadly reputation.

As expected, it was the Mandalorian-masked hunter who successfully tracked down the speedy Falcon from the ice planet of Hoth to the sky-city of Bespin. Arriving at the giant gas planet before the Falcon, Fett and Vader sprung an ingenious trap on Captain Solo's hapless crew. Fett, a shrewd negotiator himself, received his fat bounty for capturing the crew and was also given custody of the incarcerated Han Solo. The bounty hunter was then set to collect the reward on Solo's head placed by the vile underworld gangster, Jabba the Hutt.

Snapping back to reality, Fett veered hard left, dodging some errant pot-shots fired by hunkered down Tusken Raiders. B. Fett again promptly drifted back to thinking about the past, when he whisked the carbonite-frozen form of Han Solo away from Bespin. He eventually arrived on Tatooine aboard his first starship, the _Slave I_. Fett then delivered the frozen Solo to Jabba, his some-time employer, and was thousands of credits richer.

The overweight slug Jabba, more than Vader even, seriously sought after Han Solo's hide with a passion and once explained the reason _why_ to the listening Fett while the corrupt mobster chief tugged on his inherited hookah smoke pipe. The Hutt kingpin's longtime favorite smuggler, Solo, had dumped a costly bulk load of raw glitterstim spice worth exactly twelve thousand four hundred credits, on a simple pickup and delivery from the Moruth Doole mines of Kessel to Jabba's Palace on Tatooine. Jabba said, Solo abandoned the illegal drug contraband because in fact, he was seized by a tractor-beam and immediately boarded, where his ship was extensively searched and inspected by an Imperial customs crew. After an all-purpose investigation, they reluctantly found nothing, and he was released. As soon as Solo went back to retrieve the spice barrels, the smuggler was forced to hurtle at top velocity with the high-speed _Millennium Falcon_ to avoid arrest from a pair of tariff officials piloting Imperial space cruisers who had apparently scooped up Jabba's dear spice cargo. _Not a good enough excuse for Jabba though, Han Solo had many enemies besides just me_, Fett thought as he kept steering the lightning fast swoop-bike through the currently chunky rain

Fett had heard many stories like Solo's while he stayed at Jabba's Fortress, and the bounty hunter happen to be present when Solo's friends attempted to rescue Jabba's beloved decoration, the carbon-frozen smuggler Han Solo. The now long dead crime lord, Jabba the Hutt, was enraged at the attempted prison break by captain Solo and his loyal friends. The Hutt mob-boss then brought his disrespectful captives out to the Tatooine desert, to execute them in the belly of a beast. In the vast sandpit of the Great Pit of Carkoon lay the immense Sarlacc, a despicable creature that would digest its prey over thousands of years. Rather than let themselves be thrown in the Sarlacc's maw, Solo's friends, led by Luke Skywalker, fought against their unprepared captors. In the chaos that followed, Fett entered the sudden fray.

_That damn con-man Solo_, free of the carbonite and suffering acute blindness from hibernation sickness, wildly swung a vibro-ax into an unaware Fett's jetpack. With the pack's thrusters activated, the bounty hunter powerlessly soared into the Tatooine sky, out of control. The airborne masked soldier couldn't recover quick enough and violently slammed into the side of Jabba's sail barge before tragically tumbling into the awaiting Sarlacc's hungry mouth. With a sickly belch from the disgusting desert monster, it seemed as if Fett's career as the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter was brought to an end.

_That space pirate Solo was the one who was supposed to be gulped up by the Great Pit of Carkoon, along with his giant furry Wookie sidekick, Chewbacca! And that son of Darth Vader, Skywalker too, who chopped my favorite blaster in half with that primitive light saber weapon!_ He thought while maneuvering through the desert. But, Fett was the one who took the ambiguous honor of dying that day and it wasn't even until six years after the Battle of Endor that the promoted and esteemed General Han Solo even learned his old bounty hunter nemesis was still alive. Fett was glad to be with the living and he eventually reclaimed his reputation, clearly returning from the "dead," and again taking on bounties for the highest bidder.

After slicing through the dense droplets of rain, Fett reached his destination and gazed down into the dead Sarlacc Pit of Carkoon. Now the once Great Pit was just another crater of old hollow bones in the never ending sand and it was starting to accumulate odor-filled puddles of muddy rain water. While bending down to look in, B. Fett's body still felt the painful effects of that fateful afternoon on Jabba's sail barge many years ago when Solo escaped, he couldn't suppress the memories of that horrible day very easily. Because of The Great Pit of Carkoon, the great Boba Fett lay naked, wounded, and defenseless on the blistering sands of Tatooine; he was thankfully rescued by his fellow hunter Dengar, who helped nurse the near-dead Fett back to health.

_This was the exact spot where I was saved so long ago_, he'd come face to face with death right here many years ago and it was also the once and only time in his life, he'd actually been afraid. Fett's first set of armor as well as his body were extremely damaged and battered by his perilous ordeal in the horrific Sarlacc. When he plunged into the ravenous beast, he was kept alive by numerous fibrous suckers that attached themselves to his body. That was part of the Sarlacc's horrendous metabolic process; it would keep its failing prey alive for thousands of years, all the while, slowly feeding off it. Fett almost lost his identity in the swirling dementia brought about by the Sarlacc's hazardous toxins. His resolve held though, and he desperately used one of his trusty weapons to blast free of the carnivores organism.

If the crafty warrior hadn't basically blew himself out with a thermal detonator and killed the beast, _would I still be down in there being digested?_ Since living on Tatooine, Fett often came to this site of his near demise and pondered that very thought. He could close his eyes and envision how many times his main employer, Jabba the Hutt, boasted to would be victim appetizers about their impeding cruel death. The fat slug would make them listen intently while he dramatically explained _how_ they'd be digested over an agonizing thousand years in the Great Sarlacc Pit of Carkoon. B. Fett had endured many operations and bacta tank skin graft sessions to make him look like the somewhat normal human being he was now. Even after all that, for some reason this dusty planet had still become the closet thing to home since he'd quickly left his native world of Kamino with his father as a boy at a young age. Like his dad, he still preferred the rain to the usual unyielding heat of the twin suns of Tatooine days, _but if you needed to live an off the map, low-key life, you couldn't find a better place._

The bounty hunter didn't know exactly _why_ he continued to come to this emotional spot every once in a while. But, he did know for sure that he always had a good feeling wash over him every time he turned to leave the location. Maybe the good feeling was because he was _alive_ and not down there being…._digested_…. like so many other beings had been in the past. Fett almost shuddered at the thought and while still getting soaked by the rain, he turned back towards his all new, jet black, twin-turbo T-79 _Sandsword_ swoop bike. The breath taking bike was parked near a formation of rocks close to the decaying pit and it looked like it was already speeding although it sat motionless. Feeling a rush of enthusiasm, he hopped on and made the pleasant twenty minute ride back to his residence through the saturated scenic desert in only eight minutes and forty seven seconds. Not his best time, but close, especially considering the weather factor. _Maybe age is just a number,_ Fett thought to himself as he pulled into the dry garage.

After a good nights rest, Fett had a hearty breakfast of Trandolian pancakes and eggs with a nice glass of Kaminoin orange juice to top it off. Finishing his meal quickly and leaving the dirty dishes on the table for his droid to clean up, he made his way down to his favorite part of the Fett compound….the underground garage section. _Today was the day!_ The aging man felt a surge of anticipation that he hadn't experienced since…well…four years ago. "Are you ready to depart sir?" The green protocol assassin droid asked. Without the effort of a response, Fett took the miniature CPU unit out of the back of the droid's head and dropped the disk shaped object in his front pocket. He had already loaded all his gear and equipment the previous night, so all the bounty hunter had to do was make his final flight checks before leaving his comfortable home to set off on this dangerous mission. Lastly, he turned his home security system to full status which would fry any trespassers within ten meters of the house. Realizing he didn't even have any idea how long he'd be gone, Fett was glad he had previously invested in such advanced safety measure security precautions. Yea, he lived in a rather remote segment of Tatooine, but like his father always said, "Never under estimate the other guy's greed!"

Being better safe than sorry brought a smile to the old man's face as he made his way up the ramp of his _Slave IV_ starship. The _Slave IV_ looked exactly like all Fett's previous vessels down to the main bluish-gray and slightly yellow coloring complete with the original ship's awkward scrunched metal-detector shape. But, this fourth edition of the infamous bounty hunter fire spray-class gunship was damn near _twice_ the size of any of its predecessors. The formidable weapons and shield armor were second to none…..._in this galaxy at least_.

This extra space would allow Fett to bring his new toy, the T-79 _Sandsword_ swoop bike and a nice selection of his favorite military hardware and gadgets. He had a pretty good idea of what they were up against and the cunning warrior wanted to be ready for anything when he finally came face to face with one of those creatures on Concord Dawn. After reaching the _Slave IV_ pilot's seat, Fett inserted the CPU disk into the empty slot in the front dash region of his ship. The interior lights of the nicely-sized cockpit flashed to life as the KDY K6-series hyper-drive engine and the high-thrust Mandel Motors VTOL repulsor-lift system rumbled to the familiar hum that Fett had grown to miss. He gripped the controls tightly as he ordered the ship to bring the ramp up, he maliciously punched in his flight coordinates, and the veteran mercenary couldn't help but imagine that he was bringing a sleeping monster back to life. _Maybe I am…… but…… it sure as hell isn't the ship_ Fett thought as he started to raise the starship of the durasteel-plated grating.

Looking like nothing more than a flat slice of land near his home, the subterranean garage was marvelously designed by Fett himself. The "future mineral farm" area in the side yard split open like an earthquake size jack-in-the-box. The ground opened up quickly and efficiently, carefully not allowing too much of the now slowing rain shower to get inside. _Slave IV_ shot up out of the sand like a sudden eruption and the anxious assassin guided the craft up and above a collection of cumulonimbus thunder clouds stretching out over the entire horizon of the Dune Sea. Sure, his ship could handle the flight through the light drizzle, but _why put up with any turbulence during the one hour and twenty three minute trip to Mos Eisley?_

One hour and two minutes later, Boba Fett landed at a public landing dock on top of a low-rise building that was closet to the coordinates Naguchi had given him two days earlier. He'd packed his full Mandalorian battle armor, but the old bounty hunter had decided _not_ to don the entire uniform until they reached their destination on Concord Dawn. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself right away. _Having people think your dead always has its advantages_ and besides, just the sight of his legendary narrow T-shaped visor would probably stir up enough suspicion in a place where most every being thought the great Boba Fett had long been deceased, existing six-feet under. Not roaming the streets of Mos Eisley sporting a helmet-matching Mandalorian gray overcoat with black boots.

Fett would have felt naked without his helmet in public and he was glad not to have the, now side way falling, rain getting in his eyes as he strolled at a steady pace through the wet sandy streets of the still bustling spaceport. The crime rate in this capitol city of Tatooine had rapidly increased since the demise of the Empire and with no formal regulation or policing, Mos Eisley, like Fett himself, had a violent history. Following the tactical HUD display in his helmet, the wet bounty hunter found himself in front of seedy bar and grill named _THE RIPE LEMON_. The antique sign of the tavern swayed in the damp wind like an old worn-down flag. He was sure he had the right coordinates and he was also ready to get out of the driving rain regardless of the grimy appearance of the place.

Fett's weapon of choice had always been the sawed-off BlasTech EE-3 rifle, _but it was to cumbersome right now_, he concluded. Halfheartedly, he had earlier stashed a, slightly smaller, but just as venomous, Desert Scorpion blaster pistol in his belt as he confidently walked through the swinging half-doors in the front of the saloon. Even though it was only late morning, there was still a good amount of regular customers inside getting a head start on drowning away their sorrows of the day.

There was still over an hour to go until Naguchi said they were going to meet at the rendezvous point, so the masked desperado made his way to a booth in the shadowed back corner of the smoke-filled bar. He got more than his fair share of stares as he sat down at an empty table and quickly noticed that this particular watering-hole included an upstairs section, for "billiards" he guessed. Fett was once again relieved to be wearing his helmet because even with his extensive air filtration system activated, he could nevertheless still smell the stale stench of smoke that was suspended in a purple haze around him because of the interior neon lighting of the saloon. There was a small live band of various alien species playing a rhythmical tune that was obliviously not very popular to the observing patrons. Fett wasn't about to start drinking on the job so he ordered a sim-green tea…."With a straw, please!" he added as he watched the pretty Twi'lek female waitress wiggle her curvaceous backside while she strutted back to get his drink.

After only eight minutes and seventeen seconds of sipping on his tasty beverage, two men slipped into the open table directly across from the bounty hunter on the other side of the low-lit bar. Fett instinctively thumbed the hammer mechanism of his Desert Scorpion hand cannon and flicked the safety control to _off_. He then discreetly attached a blast-silencer that he had tucked in a belt pouch which was well concealed under his extra-large coat. The chrome finished, point five zero caliber, carbine blaster didn't even have the usual standard _stun_ setting….all it had was _kill_. He instantly updated the Bounty Hunter Guild's current available bounties posted on their database in his helmet's heads up display lens and zoomed in for a closer examination of the unsavory pair across from him.

With his enhanced vision, B. Fett figured out that only one of the two hooligans were really human at all, the shorter fella was a ugly unknown humanoid species with an extra set of eyes where his forehead should be along with a uneven smile _not even a mother could love_. With a rather lengthy retinal scan of all six eyes, Fett discovered that only the scruffy looking two-eyed pale skinned human had an existing bounty posted. The dead or alive proposal would profit an insignificant credit amount and wasn't even worth the substantial price of Fett's oversized blaster handgun he was now holding readily under his overcoat. These small time thugs were starring Fett down like they were old-school cold killers and it was obvious they didn't want to sit and play a friendly game of Sabbacc. He could only imagine that in their foolish minds it would be great for their criminal careers to gun down anybody that was brave and tough enough to even look like the renowned Boba Fett. He adjusted his high-quality hearing apparatus in his helmet to ease drop on the two hoodlum's conversation. "If that's him… how many people you think he's killed?" Four Eyes barked to his human partner. "I don't know….but…if it is really him….he better say his prayers" Scruffy replied. Fett could barely make out the words they were saying over the ruckus of the dreadful band, but he knew what they meant.

These gangster wannabes were with out a doubt, young, dumb and not quite skillful at the art of thinking their actions all the way through. They weren't even worth his time…but…if they did make a move, the old warrior would be ready. As if on cue, the pair of gunmen flipped over their table an exposed wimpy banana-clipped, medium sized automatic blaster rifles. Spraying the booth where Fett was sitting with a sporadic barrage of sizzling red blaster bolts, the veteran bounty hunter deftly slid under his disfigured table and crouched low to avoid the abrupt onslaught of gunfire. The brittle sandstone wall above Fett's head crumbled apart as it was riddled with gaping burning holes. And the hysterical crowd, including the dive-bar band, escaped outside to the rain because of the extremely loud string of unexpected blaster discharges. After the shooting stopped, the smoke cleared and the mighty Boba Fett emerged from behind the table like a treacherous bat out of hell. In one swift motion, the masked outlaw threw his long trench coat back while he withdrew a massive chrome handgun blaster from his hip. The seconds of time seemed to slowly creep by as the two goons looked at each other and realized they had made their last and final mistake. Fett extended his right arm forward as the shiny gun reflected the purple black-light satirizing the entire bar. Holding the Desert Scorpion at a slight angle, he steadily aimed the silenced weapon fearlessly dead-on at the troubled-looking duo. Without hesitation, Fett fingered the trigger effortlessly and sent a precise low-blast, large caliber one shot firestorm squarely between all four frightened eyes of the dumbfounded human's repulsive companion. The body fell to the ground like a sack of bricks and Four Eyes last thoughts were now part of the stonework wall behind him. Scruffy was held in a trance as he couldn't look away from the burning hole of flesh and cauterized blood where his friend's face used to be. "It's not how many people you kill….it's _who_ you kill" Fett proclaimed to the panic stricken soul cowering next to the fresh corpse. The bounty hunter walked closer and positioned the muzzle of his still warm blaster directly at Scruffy's forehead. He asked the now weeping man one simple question….."Do you want to live?" Scruffy couldn't speak trough his streaming tears, but he kept nodding his head with a frantic face that said….."Yes…..I want to live….please don't leave my _brains_ on the wall!" "All right….well….scoop up what's left of your dull friend here….and make this place a distant memory….before I collect on your miniscule bounty to buy half a bantha-burger for brunch." As the human struggled to put his partner over his shoulder, he finally staggered to the half door exit. "And don't forget to tip your waitress!" Fett announced loudly. Under his helmet, he winked at that first-rate Twi'lek girl standing at the way out as Scruffy forked over more than enough dough to pay for his drinks plus the extensive blaster damage he and Four Eyes caused to the saloon's wall and table. Old B. Fett thought _it was ironic how Scruffy ended up spending more credits today at _The Ripe Lemon_ than his meaningless life was even worth._

Fett went back to his booth to retrieve his drink, but it too was obviously reduced to a smoldering pile of rubbish, as was the charred wood table and surrounding wall. Just as he was about to go outside and wait in the rain, the bounty hunter caught a glimpse of Machiko Naguchi coming down the stairs behind him with the use of his helmet's three hundred and sixty degree vision. She stormed down the steps as if she was in a hurry and made a bee line straight for Fett. He couldn't help but stare this time at the etched mark on her forehead from behind the protection of his dark tinted mask.

Naguchi wore a light gray jumpsuit that tightly clung to her womanly form in all the right places and her dark hair was slicked back, still wet as if she had just rushed from the shower. "What in the hell is going on?" Naguchi demanded while glaring at Fett with her fiery hazel eyes. Now that she was fuming, he realized she looked a lot younger than when they had first met back at the Fett complex two days earlier, but it was probably because she was now furious about the suddenly deafening blaster fire that had erupted below her while she was caught of guard, standing naked in the shower. "What are you doing here Mereel…..besides causing trouble of course?" Naguchi declared, getting hotter with every word. "The name is Fett…..and after careful consideration I have decided to accept your business proposition……under one condition………I drive." He could see the fine lines of age coming back to the woman's face as she started to relax and cool down her overheated temper. Flaming wall fragments dropped just as she began to speak. "Your decision has nothing to do with those blaster holes in the wall….does it?" Naguchi said while pointing over to the on fire and destroyed booth.

"No, that's just some young punks trying to make a name for themselves……by bumping me off, I guess……I still have it tough, _huh_?" Naguchi didn't answer, but flashed a pretty smile and gazed into Fett's helmet as if she was searching for his eyes. "I'm sure any _true_ warrior would _kill_ to get their dirty hands on a _fine_ piece of merchandise like this." "That helmet's almost as nice as mine" she said, nearly whispering to herself. He didn't know exactly what she meant by the helmet remark, but he let it slide for now as she explained how she was staying with the rest of the team in the upstairs part of the quaint cantina, grill _and…..hotel_, Fett guessed. After the brief shootout, the refreshed killer was hungry for more action and ready to meet the team and go on a _big game_ hunt.

Martin Jess and Dexter Rothstien were introduced to the bounty hunter as he entered room_ 112_ and he was surprised by their spacious living-quarters which was located at the end of the upstairs hallway. They both saluted Fett, which he thought was _strange_, but he didn't know what else to do….._except to salute back_. With obvious military background, he was satisfied with the cards he'd been dealt to round out his hand of destruction. Jess was a middle-aged dark skinned soldier with a fully grown beard and a head of tightly woven corn-rows that were shaped in unique designs under his green camouflaged watch cap. The other commando, who liked to be called Dex, was a younger fella with a slightly lighter complexion than Jess, but possessed the same intensity. The shorter one, Dex, had a nasty habit of smoking these _menthol_ _cigarette_ sticks none stop like he was in some type of race, but they sure looked like _death_ sticks to Fett. The continuous smoker sported a short blonde ponytail and wore the same cap with dog-tags combo as his buddy. The two mercenaries had some _real_ combat experience and according to Naguchi, the soldiers were experts at following out orders, a quality that Fett would require for this type of team-partnership between four individuals to work properly. They had a short sit-down meeting with all the players involved and held a brief holo-conference with the chief security officer of the mission, Alastair Covington, who was more than tickled to have the infamous Boba Fett aboard for the mission.

Luckily, they all agreed to take the _Slave IV_ starship, considering there was enough room for everyone and their gear. Fett assured them that his ship could hold everything, as long as they didn't mind putting some of their stuff in an empty holding cell or two in the prisoner-hull below the main deck.

With the help of Fett's efficient cargo droids, it took less than nineteen minutes to load all the weapons and supplies the trio had brought. Fett couldn't believe there was so much empty space, even with the bulk of a Weyland/Yutani owned, four person, ground vehicle, the _Trail-Hunter_ _Rodeo_ they called it, taking up most of the cargo bay. The six-wheeled, off-road coupe could conveniently adjust its height and width to accommodate any space-travel shipping restrictions. The bounty hunter estimated that he could still squeeze a fully corpulent Hutt down there if he needed to. When the others saw the ultra-sleek T-79 _Sandsword_ swoop bike strapped in the cargo bay, Dex couldn't help but stop smoking for a split second to run his hand along the velvety aerodynamic body angles of the one person craft. "Just in case" Fett said with a level and emotionless voice while he tugged on the leather fastenings preventing the bike from banging and crashing around so much during the flight.

Naguchi checked out of _The Ripe Lemon_ Bar and Grill/Hotel and……Casino too, Fett found out as she arrived back at the ship. The pack of predator hunters departed from the Mos Eisley spaceport in the late afternoon, setting a course straight to Concord Dawn. Taking flight during rush-hour traffic wasn't the best idea, but they all wanted to get a head start on the week long trip, which was clear across on the other side of the universe and actually close to place where Naguchi and the rest of the team members were from. Their home planet, Earth, was smack-dab on the opposite side of the deadly _San Andreas_ _Triangle_ of asteroid fields in a far away galaxy named the _Milky Way_. This secluded part of the universe, according to Naguchi, had never been affected by the likes of the Empire or Republic and their entire galaxy was only inhabited by humans. "Until the predators came" Jess clarified.

_There would definitely be more than ample time to learn more about the new business associates as soon as they got into hyperspace_ Fett thought as he calibrated the coordinates to the planet where he, the once Journeymen-Proctor named Jaster Mereel was long ago exiled from, Concord Dawn.

The barren wasteland of Tatooine and the rest of the Outer Rim Territories became shrinking spheres through the transparent rear panel view-plates of _Slave IV_ as the planets and stars became streaking lines while the bounty hunter's vessel hit hyperspace speed. Fett set the course, allowing the autopilot CPU unit to take control over the ship's navigation systems. Then he climbed down the ladder rungs from the cockpit leading to the adequately-spaced, lounge deck located in the belly of the craft. He felt younger with every step as he hit the grated base and moved towards the waiting squad.

Naguchi, in addition to the team, were comfortably seated around the rarely used mini-conference table in a corner of the lounge floor. They discussed the plan of killing the predators _for good_ as Fett joined the impromptu meeting. Listening intently, the bounty hunter learned that these veteran soldiers had encountered the predator creatures on several brutal previous occasions. Sadly and shockingly, the original ten-man Weyland/Yutani _Predator Extermination Team_ or _PET_, had tragically lost seven hired guns to date that were, _currently part of the predator's trophy room_, he guessed. Fett could without doubt, see now _why_ the credit amount was so high and even more importantly, _why_ the company was willing to pay for the best. He still withheld his prior Imperial knowledge of the fatal creatures, but the strategic plan of the men's two military minds nevertheless unfolded before his covered eyes.

After two hours and forty nine minutes of brainstorming a various amount of different attack scenarios along with gathering information about general predator knowledge, Fett's throat started to sting. Keeping in mind he wasn't a conversationalist, the bounty hunter was surprised he'd actually sat and talked for _even_ that long at all.

Never really the ladies man either; there was something about this Naguchi woman that Fett was undeniably attracted to. Besides her apparent beauty, he couldn't precisely target his scope on what _it_ was that he liked about her. Wanting to know more, they started chatting about her life as Jess and Dex caught some shuteye in the spare bunk-beds Fett had setup near the bulkhead.

As she got into her story, he couldn't believe his ears. Naguchi had actually _lived_ with the predators for over two years and even took part in that alien seeding ritual of a variety of different planets Fett had read about before. _This was the reason for the lighting bolt on her forehead,_ he suspected. She however, had a great respect for the predators, but she also explained that she could never take part in the senseless slaying of innocent humans.

Naguchi told Fett how she couldn't seem to ever get along with the predators for some reason and basically, they had forced her out of their exclusive hunting clan when the monsters went on a human safari, taking place on the swampy marsh of Bunda. Ever since then, the Company tried to cover the meaningless disasters all up, so the top industry executives hired Naguchi to lead the _PET_ project with the sole purpose of getting rid of the problem for good. Since she was most familiar with them, she was chosen to make the predator race extinct of any Weyland/Yutani controlled colonies around the universe. "That was a decade ago" Naguchi elaborated while she ogled at Fett's visor. The woman alleged she still owned and used some personal type of predator helmet along with a set of armor she wore. Even though _her_ shielded cladding was stowed in the cargo bay well below, she couldn't stop asking questions about Fett's Mandalorian protective coverings, _just to compare to hers_, he guessed.

B. Fett could see Naguchi wanted to know more about the rest of his outfit, so he retrieved the full Mandalorian body armor from a covert compartment in the cockpit and began to talk about his lifelong history with the famed armor. He explained that during the time of the Empire, he had emerged as the preeminent bounty hunter of the known galaxy. His armor, like his father's, was a weapon-covered combat-suit equipped with a jetpack for evasive maneuvers. Fett's fearsome armor dated back from that of the historic Mandalorian design. The often battle-scarred suit's blueprint heritage can be traced back to four thousand years ago, when the clans of Mandalores fought against the powerful Jedi of the Old Republic during the Great Sith War. She couldn't believe the armor had such a rich past and was still so heavily modified with the numerous, well hidden and fatal features Naguchi didn't even know about. Gadgets like the wrist gauntlets, which contained a flamethrower, as well as a whipcord lanyard launcher with a hundred meter line span. His kneepads concealed rocket dart launchers and he even had an optional rocket launcher aperture in the back armor for "multiple targets" he said. Naguchi noticed that, eerily similar to the predator's habits, several ominous braids hung from the armor's breastplate shoulder. "Trophies from fallen prey that were especially difficult to apprehend" Fett explained as they underscored the hunter's lethality. Naguchi was anxious to show of her armor when they landed, but was also extremely impressed with the Mandalorian designed equipment.

The next couple of days of travel aboard the _Slave IV_ ran pretty smoothly, mostly because the four hunters didn't have much else to do besides plan and talk when they weren't sleeping. Fett knew the time would come when Naguchi would ask him about _who_ Jaster Mereel was, and what his _history_ was on Concord Dawn. When the inevitable question arrived, Fett didn't know what else to do except tell the truth. It was weird to talk about his past because truthfully the bounty hunter had never divulged this much personal information to anybody, _ever_. _Let alone, even talk this much to anyone. _He thought.

The _real_ Jaster Mereel had actually been his father, Jango's mentor and role model when he was a boy. Jango Fett's dad was a Journeymen Protector on the distant farm planet of Concord Dawn, he _too_ was ruthlessly murdered and it was the Mandalorian mercenary splinter group _Death Watch_ who took young Jango, under their wings. Jaster Mereel was the leader of the faction and it was him who taught the adolescent Jango Fett how to become a great warrior as well as a distinguished bounty hunter. Young Boba had heard the stories many times about the squash buckling adventures of _Death Watch_………_but that was only when dad was actually home._

As Naguchi continued to listen, B. Fett explained that early on in his _own_ career as a bounty hunter he had unfortunately lost track of an important bounty posted by Jabba on a significant separatist leader named Wat Tambor. Fett couldn't believe he remembered back this far, but continued to talk. The Jedi Order's, Anakin Skywalker cut down Tambor with a light saber before the young hunter, Fett, could catch him, _alive_, like he was suppose to. In an act of pure shame and dishonor, the youthful Boba Fett fled to his father's home world of Concord Dawn to let Jabba and his clan cool down while they maybe forgot about what happen to Tambor. While on the rural planet of Concord Dawn, B. Fett quickly took on a job as the local Journeyman Protector, which was basically the _sheriff_ of a certain region or, "parish"asthey called it there. He also decided to inherit the title of his father's hero, Jaster Mereel, to honor the man who trained Jango Fett in the Mandalorian way, which was of course, passed on to young Boba. Also, he obviously wanted to avoid any entanglement with Jabba's henchmen that might be searching for Fett. The Mereel name along with some perfectly forged documents was the perfect means of disguise. After only a little over a year on Concord Dawn, Fett as Mereel, was exiled from the planet for the murder of a corrupt Journeyman Protector who was supposedly "helping" the planet's struggling economy by secretly smuggling in illegal alien slave laborers from the spice mines of Kessel to work the farms in his parish. _That slimy son of whomp rat deserved to die…….everybody dies someday, and justice was served when I pulled the trigger that day_ Fett thought as he finished telling Naguchi how after his exile from Concord Dawn he eventually went back to work as…..Boba Fett the bounty hunter.

The name Jaster Mereel was once again used by Fett after his last encounter with Han Solo four years ago. Not too long after that was when Fett decided to relocate to Tatooine for good, he once again took on the name of Mereel for basically the same reason as he did so many years before when he first fled to Concord Dawn. Boba Fett's wasn't the name exiled from the farming planet, so neither he nor Naguchi figured Fett's history as Mereel would be a problem when they arrived.

After only five days of travel Fett had actually built some sort of _friendship_ with the squad and he was anxious to see what they could accomplish as a team. However, one thing he did have to take on by himself was the treacherous _San Andreas Triangle_ of asteroid fields which filled the front view-port of _Slave IV_ as he decelerated from hyperspace. The endless sea of floating rocks could only be navigated manually because of so many unknown factors the CPU navigation system couldn't register and the obstacle laden trail required a skilled pilot _as well as some durasteel nerves_ to pass through to the awaiting _Milky Way _galaxy. The rest of the team was asleep, which Fett thought was convenient so they wouldn't be apprehensive about his flying expertise. Taking a deep breath, he lunged into the precarious triangle of asteroid fields, hoping for the best.

After twenty nine minutes of near-faultless maneuvering, Fett had only clipped a small rock with the tip of his left wing while dipping and diving through the clustered space. With the end of the run in sight, an enormous looking boulder came out of nowhere directly in the flight path of _Slave IV_. Without any hesitation, Fett instantly gripped the controls and fired two concussion missiles that streamed through space to convincingly shatter the massive rock into a shadowy mist of dust particles. There was still a cloud of ash lingering as the starship shot through the debris and safely reached the end of the deadly triangle. _That was close,_ Fett thought to himself as he heard his passengers start to rumble around below, obviously awoken by the ship's weapon discharge. "Is everything all right up there!" Naguchi groggily yelled up into the cockpit. "Everything is fine……we'll be touching down in a little under an hour…so, be ready" Fett responded without a hint of emotion.

Fifty two minutes later, _Slave IV_ shot through the sub-space atmosphere of the farming world of Concord Dawn as the vessel's deceleration buffers flared like eternal candles in the dead of night. The ship was instantly saturated with the darkness of the planet's elongated evenings while flying at a steady pace towards their destination. B. Fett could barely see the spec of flashing lights below as he navigated to the location where he'd been given clearance to land.

Covered by the shadows of nightfall, Fett carefully set the flying arsenal down at the prearranged landing dock. The surrounding compound was a subsidiary of the Weyland/Yutani Company called Kincade Farming Operations and Products. Because of the slow rotation of the planets axis, the day-night cycle on Concord Dawn was considerably longer than most other inhabited worlds. With an average day of sunlight lasting almost forty seven standard hours, just about all local systems used the planets vast natural resources for most farming and cattle purposes. Unfortunately, this also meant the nighttime was somewhat extended as well, so, even though it was two sixteen in the afternoon on Fett's clock, the darkness was inescapable until the next "day" which was in……_thirteen hours…._Fett discovered as he recalibrated his watch.

Frankly, the new and improved PET squad didn't really care how much sunlight there was, as long as they could catch a predator on the prowl. In a stroke of pure luck, the "infected" parish was on the total opposite side of the planet where Fett had been Sheriff Mereel decades earlier. Nevertheless, this particular sector of the rural world looked exactly the same as he had remembered from his time as a Journeymen Protector a lifetime ago.

Boba Fett and the team slowly walked down _Slave IV'_s ramp and as the ships cooling systems expelled a light smoke, they made their way to the entrance of the Kincade Farming facility. The main ranch compound was immense; in addition to that, it was near-completely surrounded by the outlying crops and colossal trees that streaked across the dark landscape. As the team hit the permacrete ground of the landing grid, Dex immediately sparked up a cigarette while they noticed three human figures emerging from the well-lit double door entrance.

Two of the men Fett didn't recognize…..but….the first un-shadowed sight of the mustached guy in the middle sent a sudden injection of rage that coursed through the hunter's veins.

Lando Calrissian looked like he hadn't aged a bit since his space-pirating days with that damn Han Solo. Fett stopped in mid stride and rested his gloved hand slightly above the butt of his fully charged Desert Scorpion handgun which was now holstered low on his thigh. "What's _he_ doing here?" Fett asked while he contemplated if he should kill the founder of Tendrando Arms right _here and now_. Lando flashed his signature pearly white smile and slowly raised his hands in a mock surrender gesture. But, the other two at his side weren't smiling; they brought their oversized blaster rifles to firing positions and pointed them directly at Fett. "Wait…wait!" Naguchi yelled as she stood straight in front of the ready warrior.


	2. Chapter 2

"He's the one who referred us to _you_!" Naguchi exclaimed while Lando Calrissian slowly walked towards the team as he motioned for the trigger happy pair at his side to hold their fire…._for now_. "Yea, _Fett……_ listen to your gorgeous friend here." Calrissian words were heard, but Fett could see Lando, the recently married business man, carefully undress Naguchi with his lustful eyes as he still held his hands halfway up in a reluctant sign of surrender.

Fett instantly felt an emotion he had never experienced in his entire life up to this point……jealously….and he knew right away it was a feeling he didn't like. Even though he had crossed paths with the rascal Lando Calrissian countless times in the past without killing him….right now….Fett could blast the bastard's knee caps and watch him bleed out, devoid of feeling a trace something like remorse or sorrow. Not that remorse or sorrow were emotions Fett had ever felt either, but this was something different….this was _personal_.

The murmurs of sound turned to words as Fett tuned back in to the ongoing conversation while he quickly suppressed his unexpected feelings to the back of his mind.

"So….how many YVH hunting droids do you want?" Fett didn't respond to Lando's question as Naguchi cut in. "Hello!...Fett!...is there anybody under that helmet of yours?" "Do we need more weapons or battle droids?" "No, I've prepared for everything." Fett said flatly, finally responding. Lando's silk half-cape caught the light wind as he turned to leave and said. "Ok then I must go, I have other _paying_ business ventures to attend to." Calrissian was obviously frustrated with the apparent waste of time and for even coming to Concord Dawn in the first place.

Before he left, Lando introduced the mysterious young gunners at his back; they sported matching blasters and had relaxed their previously aimed weapons.

"This is Vashawn Graveston, the local parish's Journeymen Protector….and…. this is Uro Excobar….he's an employee of mine and a novice Jedi." "Uro has my com-link number and he will contact me when our little problem has been properly eliminated." Calrissian gave one last smile to Naguchi and gave a nod to his associate as he hustled back to his awaiting ship…._which must have been parked inside_, because Fett didn't see another craft sitting outside besides _Slave_ _IV_.

The old bounty hunter was beginning to second guess his decision to come on this mission at all, _now that this Jedi was involved_. Fett had a special place in his cold heart for the pure hatred of Jedi. Even though this Excobar character wasn't a full blown Jedi, B. Fett didn't like the idea in the slightest, worse more, _he's an employee of Calrissian_.

Uro Excobar wore the Jedi customary long dark brown shroud, but he had some rather uncustomary shiny blue crystal-ice studs that pierced the bottom of both his ears. Also unlike other Jedi warriors, he carried the reliable Tendrando Blasters N-16 assault rifle that was still strapped around his shoulder. Fett didn't notice a light-saber that was visible right away, but he was sure the young Jedi punk had one tucked in his belt somewhere under his _dress_.

Vashawn Graveston's outfit didn't look like anything Fett could remember from his days as a Journeymen Protector. Graveston's black and red coveralls looked about as dirty as the ground they walked on, furthermore his B-16 blaster rifle appeared as if it was a valuable relic from the Clone Wars with a mass of grip tape-with dirt accessory-that was wrapped around the weapon's handle and firing shaft.

B. Fett wasn't pleased at all with having two additions to the squad. Now that there were six team members, he didn't give a womp-rat's hide quarter how the two were getting paid. It didn't matter who he had to blast, their fee wasn't coming out of his cut of the fifty mill.

"Step inside my office" Fett said as Excobar and Graveston started walking towards the rest of the team. The agitated bounty hunter told Naguchi and her boys to wait outside while he had a quick _word_ with the others.

Fett had been confined to interior of _Slave IV_ for just over five days. Even though they had just landed on Concord Dawn, he found himself walking back up the ship's ramp with the Jedi wannabe and the dirty sheriff following closely behind.

As soon as the trio reached the lounge deck, Fett spun around and without wasting a second said "Let's get one thing straight…..this may be your neck of the woods….but…..I'm still in charge...and...don't ever forget it!" "These predators eat pieces of worm ridden filth like you for breakfast….so….watch your own back….because I'm only watching mine!"


	3. Chapter 3

B. Fett was more than agitated as he told his two new _friends_ to have a seat at the mini-conference table in _Slave IV's _lounge deck. Calming himself, Fett walked back down into the ever present darkness of Concord Dawn. He adjusted the night vision in his visor to see Dex lighting up another deathstick ..ur.. cigarette and Jess shining a flashlight into the dense trees.

Naguchi was waiting close by while staring intently at the region Jess was pointing his light source. It was so dark that Naguchi was nearly startled when Fett came up and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Their already here" she whispered. B. Fett looked into her hazel eyes from under his helmet and didn't respond to her comment, but he knew what she meant.

"I have a bad feeling about this" Naguchi continued. "It'll all work out" Fett said finally. "You and your guys need to brief our new band members so we can start the _show_." Naguchi gave a slight smile and a small nod as she moved past Fett back towards the lighted area of the ship. She was visibly reluctant to go back inside the hull of _Slave IV_, but he could tell she knew it needed to be done.

The old bounty hunter decided he wanted to do a preliminary scouting report of the surrounding area while the others went over _Predator 101_.

The fertile soil was somewhat moist from the regular watering of the all the plant life that engulfed most of the parish. B. Fett left tracks in the near-mud as he walked deeper into the dense foliage. There was still plenty of time until the onslaught of sunlight would overthrow the prolonged darkness, but Fett couldn't decide if that was an advantage or not.

The ready warrior gazed up above the tall trees looking for a premium vantage point. He saw some flashing red and yellow light beacons, that were actually the same flashing lights Fett had seen earlier when he was piloting the _Slave IV_ to the landing grid of the Kincade facility. The lights were blinking steadily from the uppermost part of the main building, which was about twenty five to thirty stories high, Fett wasn't exactly sure.

He figured he could get a better view from up above. So, he triggered a hidden mechanism in his wrist gauntlet and the jetpack on his back flamed to life.

B. Fett's feet lifted of the ground as he quickly shoot into the night air. The propulsion unit could only keep him air born for exactly forty five seconds, so there wasn't much time to soar around like one of the local Rapture Eagles, _which would have been an endangered species of this area if wasn't for some mighty expensive cloning procedures that where done about fifty years ago_, Fett remembered from his prior days working as a Journeymen Protector of a different parish. Now there was an abundance of these flying carnivorous scavengers that drifted around the entire planet looking for scrapes of food anywhere they could find it. Fett still had no clue _why the scientists didn't let those dirty-birds just die off like God had intended_.

Fett rarely used his jetpack ever sense his ordeal in the Sarlacc. The pack had actually exploded down there from the tension of the fibrous suckers that were holding Fett captive in its belly. He was still glad to this day that he found that thermal detonator for the great Sarlacc to digest, _just for good measure_, he thought just as his boots hit the top platform of the Kincade's main building of the facility.

The expert assassin knelt low on the edge of the platform and scanned the entire outlying area from side to side like a predatory animal. The lines of trees and crops looked like a meticulous maze _with no valid exit or way to get out_, Fett considered as he stood up. _ Some of those distant trees were almost as tall as_……Fett lost his train of thought as he felt a slight nudge on his back.

B. Fett was now free-falling face first fast towards the damp ground. He tried to reignite his jetpack, but it only sputtered out, _obviously the fuel cell hadn't fully recharged fast enough_!

With Jedi-like reflexes, Fett shot the whipcord lanyard line from his wrist gauntlet and the diamond-tipped head almost instantly buried itself into the permacrete side of the building. Just as he was about to splat the ground, the line went taught and Fett's shoulder was almost ripped out of the socket as his falling momentum swung him violently into the rock-solid wall.

He dangled in mid-air with his right arm raised up as if he wanted the teacher to call on him, but all B. Fett had to do was extend his legs down to reach the muddy ground below. His entire side and especially his shoulder were extremely sore from the wicked impact of the fall.

He was very thankful that the lanyard launcher was specifically designed for those types of maneuvers. _Maybe not from that height_, he thought as wiggled all his fingers and toes just to make sure everything still worked. Fett's body ached all over, but couldn't help but think his Mandalorian armor had saved his life yet again by absorbing most of the brutal collision with the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

The building was some type of permacrete sided water tower, Fett found out as he returned back to the friendly confines of _Slave IV_. He discussed his recent free fall from "twenty-eight stories up", Graveston clarified. "This entire parish was evacuated yesterday….so…it must have been one of the predators."

B. Fett figured Graveston was on track, but _something didn't seem right_ he thought. _Would a predator whose sole purpose in life was the honor and glory of the hunt, just push an opponent to their death? Where was the fun in that?_

The Mandorlian warrior had a plethora of thoughts swirling around in his razor-sharp mind. _Something just didn't add up_.

The rest of the group sat in silence, looking for B. Fett to delegate their next plans. Just as the bounty hunter was about to speak, Naguchi strolled into the lounge deck. She was now wearing her own personally fitted predator gear.

_And boy was it personal_. Naguchi's "armor" was really only a tight fitting mesh material that accentuated her well-toned curves. There were some tougher looking shoulder and knee protective coverings that were part of her outfit, but it pretty much looked like a bathing suit to Fett.

"You fight in that?" B. Fett asked her directly. "Yeah, I think there's a certain _aerodynamic_ aspect to it, don't ya think?" Naguchi responded without skipping a beat. Then she proceeded to put on her own unique predator helmet that Fett had heard so much about during their voyage to Concord Dawn. She now stood with a gleam of confidence that the aging bounty hunter hadn't seen in her before.

After the PET squad finished going over some final details with Graveston and Excobar, they decided to split up so they could cover the surrounding area of the Kincade facility.

Fett insisted on going out alone, but Naguchi wouldn't have it. She basically just plopped herself on the back of Fett's _T-79 Sandsword_ swoop bike. Jess, Dex, Excobar, and Graveston all piled into the _Trail-Hunter_ _Rodeo. _The vehicle was about twice the size as it was when they packed it in before the trip, mostly because of the six fully inflated all terrain tires.

The two vehicles went their separate ways with plans of flanking the preds and high hopes of catching the dirty beasts off guard.

Naguchi had to hold onto Fett tightly because the speedy swoop was really designed to accommodate only one person.

After only about seventeen minutes of slicing through the highly compacted forest, a blue flash of extreme light ripped through the damp night air. Fett narrowly avoided the sizzling blast as it engulfed a undeveloped tree behind them in a brilliant display of blue fire and flames. Fett automatically leaned into the controls as he slammed his foot down on the thruster pedal. Leaves and branches flew by Fett's enhanced night vision as he expertly maneuvered the speedy _T-79_ through the dense foliage. More and more mysterious blue lighting bursts flew through the air leaving a trail of explosions behind the two riders.

"We're surrounded from above!" Naguchi yelled almost directly into Fett's earpiece as she clung to him so tightly that she was beginning to irritate his sore rib cage. "Take the controls!" Fett said without evening turning his head back. "What!" They were still getting assaulted by blue energy bolts from all sides, but there was clearing that was coming up. B. Fett skillfully yanked the control bars towards the clearing and continued to keep up their high velocity. "What!" Naguchi screamed again. Without the effort of a response, Fett released her tense grasp around him and proceeded to stand up on the swoop bike like he was performing some crazy Corellian circus act. As if it was all in one motion, B. Fett back-flipped off the swoop bike , he ignited his jet-pack at the perfect moment and started soaring upwards.

Naguchi took over the controls and safely maneuvered the bike to a safe distance from the onslaught of blue fire.

The volley of constant blue blaster bolts followed B. Fett as he flew skyward towards the towering treetops. The nimble bounty hunter landed softly on an enormous log like branch that stuck out near the top canopy of the gigantic trees. The source of Fett's aerial assault was yet to be determined, but he knew the Preds had some sort of cloaking device that could make them virtually invisible to the naked eye despite the obvious camouflage of darkness that covered them.

But, the enigmatic Boba Fett's watchful eye was fully clothed in the comfortable warmth of IV(infered vision). With a series of blinks, he activated a red-tinted optical display in his helmet and reflexively scanned the surrounding area for some sign of his attackers. Small fires were burning all around him and it was extremely hard to pinpoint a heat signature from one of his assailants.

Shards of wood and flaming splinters exploded all around Fett as he huddled up close to the trunk of the massive tree. Even though a majority of the leaves and branches were on fire around him, B. Fett knew these trees could stand up to more damage and pounding than that. The old bounty hunter had is back up against the trunk of the tree as much as he could, considering the bulk of his jet pack and utility belt. He tried to peak around the side and down about a hundred and fifteen meters to see if Naguchi was still alive, but he couldn't even get a glimpse before another blue lighting blast exploded tree bark fragments all around his head.

B. Fett knew the Predator's vision was entirely IV and was based on the movement of warm living creatures. The ingenious bounty hunter had another trick up his fully weaponized sleeve. With a new series of blinks Fett hadn't done in quite some time, he adjusted his Mando armor temperature control actuator. He almost instantly felt like he was buried knee deep in snow on the ice planet Hoth. B. Fett knew his discomfort was well worth it because his own heat signature was now greatly reduced.

The temperature control device in Fett's Mando armor wasn't even part of it's original design. He had only installed the upgrade after his unpleasant ordeal in the Sarlacc. B. Fett's body had been through several tedious skin graft and Bacta tank sessions. Since almost ninety two percent of his battered body had endured third degree burns from the intestinal fluids of the horrendous Sarlacc, he had a very long and arduous recovery process. Not one to sit around and heal like a normal being would do, Fett simply installed the temperature control actuator in his armor to keep his mending skin at a constant coolness while he continued to rule his profession.

Now, he was somewhat thankful for the upgrade he made all those years ago even though he felt as if he was near-frozen inside a block of ice. The cold bounty hunter was trying his hardest to not chatter his teeth but continued to hold his Mandalorian reserve and kept still.

Eventually Fett felt like he was camouflaged enough from the Predators to make a move.


	5. Chapter 5

The anxious assassin was starting to feel like he was frozen in time. He had the high ground in this battle, so B. Fett felt comfortable in holding the tactical advantage over his attackers. With his _trusty_ jetpack missile ready to launch, he looked past the cover of the thick trees. The unique sound of silence was all that greeted him. _Nothing_.

The rarely confused bounty hunter saw no sign of the Predators or any of his team members. In fact, his swoop-bike wasn't even there anymore. _What the hell is going on?! _

Even through his enhanced olfactory receptors in his Mandolorian battle helmet, Boba Fett couldn't avoid the rancid and foul stench of a set-up. He knew something was up when that scoundrel, Calrissian showed his pearly whites. Mentally scolding himself, the aging mercenary retraced all of his steps to this point. Where had he gone wrong? _Four years since his last contract_, maybe that amount of time had clouded his previously impeccable judgment in critical decision making situations? Fett was reminded again of the reason he always worked alone. Too many unknown variables always complicate matters when partners are involved. _Partners_. The word itself was starting to sound stupid in his mind. Why would Naguchi get him mixed up in this mess? B. Fett poked his head out again and peered down to the same area he looked at before. _Nothing_. She must be in on it, he thought. How else could it have got this far? The frustrated warrior made his way down to the ground to inspect the area for any clues that might help unravel the current mystery.

_That was too close_. Fett thought, as he thankfully took in the beautiful sight of his _T-79_ _Sandsword_ swoopbike, still basically intact. It was lying on its side with a newly added feature though. An eyesore consisting of a 12mm long scratch that zigzagged down the side of the fusel lodge, _and boy was hard to miss_.

_That'll buff out._ The increasingly annoyed bounty hunter didn't detect any other life forms or adversaries around at all while scanning the area still cloaked in the red tint of his Inferred vision. Not even a clear heat signature trail could be identified.

Then he saw it, a simple thing that to the naked eye would mean nothing more than dirt on the ground. _A footprint. A clue. An answer. _The unmistakable footprint could only belong to one species. Trandoshan. And there's only one Trandoshan Fett knows about, _Bossk_.

B. Fett should have known better. Maybe old father time had become his real parental guardian over these last four years? That sorry reptilian bastard Bossk had been trying to get rid of Fett for decades. It was easy to forget how many vendettas the infamous Boba Fett had running throughout his life, even for the man himself.

It didn't seem like much of leap in thought to imagine the villainous Bossk teaming up with the Predators. _They had to be like cousins or something at least, right?_ That would explain one of his latest adventures, free-falling down the, _what was it again?_ _Twenty-seven story building a couple of hours ago. That must have been Bossk using Predator gear._

These overwhelming revelations where beginning to hurt Fett's well protected head and he knew what was coming next. B. Fett slowly rose from his crouched position while slightly turning his body and head to look behind him. Sure enough, the aging mercenary was now suddenly surrounded by a full pack of Predators.

_Or at least people in Predator gear_, Fett couldn't really tell yet. Not one to contemplate such deep thoughts, Fett deftly dropped into a combat roll while unleashing a fierce and scorching stream of unforgiving flames from his wrist gauntlet. With his reduced heat signature from the temperature control actuator and the just recently deployed fire shield, B. Fett would be a pretty hard target, or at least he hoped so. The tediously familiar blue fire bolts he had encountered earlier once again accompanied Fett's personal space as he sprinted to cover behind another enormous tree. Keeping low, he unholstered his firearm and quickly took aim at every _Predator scum_ lower appendage in his view.

Green blood exploded from some of the Predators kneecaps as B. Fett impulsively pulled the customized trigger as fast as humanly possible. The aged assassin swiftly holstered the _Desert Scorpion_ and equipped his _EE-3_ blaster he had slung around his back. The _EE-3_ actually made Fett smile as he unleashed multiple high caliber blaster bolts into the screaming assailants wailing in agony on the moist ground.

It was a fairly quick battle, but the damage had been done. Three real Predators and four humans lay dead on the soggy ground. _The humans are_ _probably the traitors: Rothstein, Jess, Excobar and Graveston_, Fett thought as he watched the lone survivor of the rapid gun battle stumble to his feet. _Bossk_.

B. Fett could tell who it was by the way the creature walked and stumbled towards his _T-79_ swoopbike, clearly trying to scurry away. "Where ya going?" Fett said as he shot Bossk square in the hindquarter. The fading Trandoshan pathetically struggled to get the tipped swoopbike to an upright position.

"I've always despised you Fett" Bossk slithered, speaking as loudly as he could. "They came to me….they wanted me to help capture….the _mighty_ Boba Fett." "How could I resist such a job?" Bossk was gushing dark arterial blood at a speedy pace and clearly fatiguing fast. B. Fett didn't bother with a response as he slowly stepped over the dead bodies towards Bossk. "Yeah..they really wanted you Fett…wanted to clone you …like your daddy." Bossk was basically just lying on the ground squealing away. "I told em'…the only way they could lure you in….the only way they might get you to come here…was with a..woman."

B. Fett instantly spun around to find a well-placed gun butt in his helmeted face. Unfortunately, the temperature control actuator and IR vision greatly reduced his helmet's 360-degree view. Naguchi wasn't as strong as she thought because her blow didn't penetrate Fett's Mandalorian battle armor. The sudden impact did make Fett stumble over a little bit, but he swiftly dropped the _EE-3_ and shot out his ripcord lanyard that instantly ensnared the back-stabbing bitch, quickly and efficiently.

"I had no choice!" Naguchi shrieked. Even though her voice was somewhat muffled through her Predator helmet, Fett could tell there was slight essence of remorse in her voice. "Calrissian threatened to buy out Waylnad/Yutani and kill off the entire Yaujta race for good!" "I had no idea who you were," she continued. B. Fett swaggered over to the now quiet Bossk and unceremoniously shot the dying Trandoshan in the back of the head. "I should have killed him a long time ago," Fett said as he walked back over to the captured Naguchi.

The bounty hunter was starting to feel sharp pains now as he realized he'd actually been shot three times. Once in the leg and twice in the chest plate of his armor. The Mandolorian design had held up once again, but _it still hurt_. His whole body was extremely sore already from the fall and he could still barely keep his teeth from chattering.

Mud and blood was sticking to Naguchi's sweaty bare skin as she rolled around trying desperately to get free. She eventually lost her will after getting almost completely covered in dirt and gore. She was now lying directly next to the dead Predators, her Predator family. "Are you one of them…or…one of us?" Fett asked methodically. She didn't answer right away, "I didn't have any idea who you were a week ago." "Calrissian told me you were a washed up legend who…everyone thought…was dead already...long ago…" She hesitated again while rolling over on to her back to look up at Fett who was now standing directly over her pointing his weapon. "Now that I know you…I think…..I think you're…still very…_alive_" Naguchi could barely get the words out. "I can't lie Fett, I set you up….and yes…I am Yaujta, forever!" "I'm sorry Fett."

"Me too." B. Fett said as he shot Naguchi in the chest without any hesitation. Crimson blood ran down Naguci's well-toned abdomen as he heard her last gasp of air through the cover of her mask. Fett was glad the he didn't have to see her pretty face wrench as she died. But, deep down inside, he wished things could have been different.

As he turned to leave, Fett heard a weird sound, a bizarre beep, followed by another beep in a higher octave. Then another and another, each beep sounding higher and higher. B. Fett had already hoped on the _T-79_ and floored the gas at the first beep…..


End file.
